I Have Fat Enough!
There comes a time when you look fat,
'Cos fat is what you are,
You've broken chairs each time you sat
And things have gone too far!
You need to diet! Yes, you do!
You need to flee the flab...
You simply grew and grew and grew,
Ate all that you could grab!
Well, now's a good time, change your weighs!
Don't squash the scales again!
If you get thin, you'll earn the praise,
So think thin until then!
So ask a Doctor who knows best,
Yes, you, just take your time...
Like Amy Pond who's so well dressed,
So thin she looks sublime!
It's up to you! Yes, you, not me!
My diet's going well...
Just be the best that you can be,
As thin as Tinkerbell!
That said, obsession's not advised...
So check your ideal weight...
'Cos someday soon you'll be surprised,
'Cos someday... You'll look great!
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2011.
Is this poem meant to deliberately offend?
Is this poem meant to accidentally offend?
No. It's meant to remind us of one lady who
finally had to admit it, 'I have had enough! '
So the poem was called, I Have Fat Enough!
This poem is based on the website feedback
read on myspecialk-dot-co-dot-uk by the dieters
who want less not more. They have all known
that they should diet, so they decided to try it...
The rest is history: yes, his story and her story.
P.S. Doctor Who's assistant is Amy Pond,
who is played by the actress Karen Gillan.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heavyweights
Each rhino stands a bulky beast,
My word, they sure stand out!
They start off big, then they're increased,
Then spread their weight about...
Yes, heavyweights, that's how it is!
Their strength self-evident...
To them, their weight seems not amiss,
That's just the way it went!
The rhino's horn is his defence,
It's like an afterthought...
Against the ones who aren't his friends,
So that he won't get caught...
And at forty miles an hour,
Well, you try matching that!
Who can comprehend his power?
With one foot he'd squash you flat...
No wonder that he eats a lot,
So he can run at length...
He's fat, yet doesn't care one jot,
He must keep up his strength!
Well, I'm glad I'm not a rhino,
As bulky as can be...
'Cos I'm quite thin in fact and so
I'm happy being me!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Heavyweights'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord And Lady
The lion and his lioness
Surveyed their great domain,
For such was theirs by great prowess,
Come sunshine or come rain...
As long as they fought as a team,
Their conquests seemed assured,
It was as if they lived their dream,
This lady and her lord...
Togetherness can change each life,
With trust the golden key,
Surpassing joy, surviving strife,
Surprising you and me...
Without this trust no teamwork wins,
It's crucial day-by-day,
It's how each hour on Earth begins,
If wisdom's meant to stay...
The lord and lady know their place,
Like royalty they rule,
They walk with dignity and grace,
They can be kind or cruel...
They raise their young so life goes on,
Replacing them in time...
But while they're here, until they're gone,
They simply look sublime...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Lord And Lady'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by David Carter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by Aisha Patterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Beautiful Is She?
With her Fiorelli handbag,
How beautiful is she?
She muses as she reads her mag
And yet has not seen me...
But here I am, transfixed in time
And mesmerised in truth,
For she's exquisite, quite sublime
And so hard to improve...
She's got pinache, she's got finesse,
She's got that fashion style
And in my heart, there's happiness,
Each time I see her smile...
To think, that God created her
For me to fall in love,
No wonder that such feelings stir
To thank the Lord above...
Dressed to impress, beguile, bewitch,
Catch mortals in her spell.
Who knows if she is really rich?
This sweet Fiorelli girl...
My first intent is just to stare,
To worship from afar...
Someday to tell her that I care,
'I love you... you're a star! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2011.
The poem's based on a www-dot-bid-dot-tv
picture for the Fiorelli handbags on sale...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Longest Poem In The World
The longest poem in the world
Went on and on and on...
So much that when it was unfurled,
Rolled on and on and on...
Folks were entranced when first they read,
Yet none could see it through.
For soon they had to go to bed
And sleep as sleepers do.
The fastest speakers had their turn,
Attempting what they could,
Yet they grew hoarse to likewise learn
That it did them no good.
Computer geeks were rallied round,
Translating text to speech.
It wore the geeks into the ground,
Too far beyond their reach.
God called His angels to His Throne
And asked for volunteers,
Yet when the poem's length was known,
They knew it would take years!
Despite this fact, God's Son stood proud
And said it was sublime...
And solemnly that day He vowed
That He would spare the time.
So God agreed and Jesus left
And read the poem through...
God missed His Son and felt bereft,
Yet time in Heaven flew.
God's Son returned with His report,
The poem to explain...
He shared the poet's every thought,
The power of his brain...
The angels listened patiently
And when Jesus was done,
They praised the Lord in ecstacy
And thanked God for His Son!
The longest poem to recall!
From the oldest man who lived!
For Christ alone had read it all -
Methusaleh's greatest gift!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Thaw
The polar bear stepped gingerly,
Just one step at a time...
No longer thin as he should be,
No longer quite sublime...
The ice grew soft as morning dew,
Not hard as once he'd seen...
The ice was slippy-slidy, too,
And he was not so keen...
The seasons change, that's how it goes,
Life gently moves along...
Yet suddenly, the wise heart knows,
When something could go wrong...
He'd slipped before! He'd banged his teeth!
He'd yelped in pain that day!
He'd cried out loud in disbelief,
Till his pain went away!
One step... one step... one step... then pause...
As if he'd lost his touch...
A little scared with outstretched claws,
Reluctant now to budge!
Before you laugh at such a sight,
Have you slipped up at all?
Have you crashed down with all your might
When ice caused you to fall?
Compassion teaches us to care,
That's if we've 'thawt' it through!
Instead of laughing when we stare,
Let's ask, 'What should we do! ? '
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Spring Thaw'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
Gayford Gallery
A poem about the wildlife artist, Stephen Gayford
Imagine God gave you a gift with which to bless us all
And simply let your life to drift so that you might stand tall...
And in the years that followed on, your blessings blossomed well,
Such that your doubts were truly gone, what stories you could tell...
Just think of those who stand and paint, made famous over time,
Such that their art is not just quaint, but thought of as sublime...
With auctions here and auctions there and exhibitions, too...
And compliments beyond compare because of what they do...
Each dedicated artist knows the sacrifices made
And though each legend grows and grows, it's just that each obeyed...
Their destiny is in their hands, their paintings on our walls,
Their galleries across the lands wherever greatness calls...
Perhaps a hundred hours done for each and every week,
Preserving still a sense of fun in artwork that's unique...
With family values well expressed in lions, tigers, bears,
Our Stephen Gayford does his best, remembered in our prayers...
Denis Martindale, copyright, March 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent website
gayfordgallery-dot-com where we can visit and
enjoy wonderful artwork meant for one and all.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Beautiful Butterflies
Both part of God's great Paradise,
I saw them gliding by...
God's two beautiful butterflies
Were there upon the sky...
And everywhere they flew around
Or stopped to have a rest,
The sight of them would quite astound
And folks would be impressed!
Of course, their beauty was ordained,
So folks would give God praise,
Because through beauty much is gained,
It's not a passing phase...
The Lord decided long ago
Each colour, tint and hue
And this is how we start to grow,
When we say, I love you...
And so, give thanks, when beauty's near,
Give thanks when beauty's far!
Each gem's meant to be crystal clear,
A scintillating star!
This world is full of fragrant things,
Like roses meant to please...
Yet none more beauteous than the wings
Of butterflies like these...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.
The Two Beautiful Butterflies poem is dedicated
to Cindy Humphrey and Gemma Smallpage.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Young Guns
Two lions lingered, both at rest,
As if they had all day...
All deadly thoughts had been suppressed,
For hunting and for prey...
This was their time, the sun was kind,
A gentle breeze drew near
And so, together, they reclined,
Without one trace of fear...
A slow abiding trust had formed
That blessed each lion's heart...
And friendship grew and then it warmed,
A strong bond to impart...
They knew each other through and through,
Each mood, each train of thought,
Each planning what the two could do,
If prey was to be caught...
This bond would stand the test of time,
No matter, day or night,
This miracle they called sublime
And sensed that it was right...
So they survived the lean, mean years,
Endured them, come what may...
To gain respect from all their peers...
Together, all the way...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Young Guns'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tranquillity
Behold the dolphins interweaved
Like soulmates bathed in love
And see how gently each has breathed
From precious air above...
And there to glide in aqua haze,
In God's tranquillity,
Content to spend their nights and days
Where God meant them to be...
Exploring here, exploring there,
As if a Mystery Tour,
To look on sights beyond compare
Upon the ocean floor...
To celebrate this thing called life
That God bestows with grace,
The dolphins strive, against all strife...
And swim at their own pace...
God asks no more of such as these,
They serve their purpose well,
Yet Man must work, then take his ease
And simply rest a spell...
So meditate, when peace allows,
Like dolphins in the sea...
As if to seize the time to browse
For sweet tranquillity...
Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Tranquillity'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem For All
I am
Looking around, all the time
Just as before, for a poem
A balanced poem, without sides
A poem without inclination, non-biased
A poem without pigmentation, colourless
A poem without religion, faithless
A poem without a nation, stateless
A poem devoid of immigration officers, borderless
A poem without language, speechless, silent
I am
Looking around all the time
Just as before, for that poem
Everyone’s poem, everyone’s song!
poem by Isaac Maliya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soul Doctor
Well I woke up this morning
Took your advice
I dialed the number
And I let it ring twice
Then I hung up
Now I tried to do
Everything I could
To save our love
And make it feel good again
I cant fight it, theres nobody home
Hard hearted and all alone
I give you love, you aint giving it back
I cant take it
I need to see the soul doctor
Before the fever begins
You know Im searching for the soul doctor
When love is wearing thin
Doctor soul is in
Ive been kicked in the corner
Im down in the dirt
I cant feel a thing
But I know it ought to hurt
Now your shaking my spirit
Im breaking my back
Im too blind to hear it
So I over react to satisfaction
If I could get me some
I aint talking, theres nothing to say
Misunderstandin, your walking away
Maybe baby, its gonna take time, time, time
I need to see the soul doctor
Before the fever begins
You know Im searching for the soul doctor
When love is wearing thin
Doctor soul is in
I need to see the soul doctor
You know things are looking grim
I keep searching for the soul doctor
Doctor soul is in
The doctors soul intention
Let it be understood
Cant pull the strings of my heart
I aint made out of wood
Now I take what I get
To get what it takes
Need a little bit a love
Got a whole lotta heartaches
I cant fight it, theres nobody home
Hard hearted and all alone
Maybe baby, its gonna take time, time, time
I need to see the soul doctor
Before the fever begins
You know Im searching for the soul doctor
When love is wearing thin
Doctor soul is in
I need to see the soul doctor
You know things are looking grim
I keep searching for the soul doctor
Doctor soul is in
Hey, a little bit of soul, oh yeah
Doctor soul is in
Heart and soul doctor
I need to see the soul doctor, soul doctor
Doctor soul is in
Doctor, doctor, doctor, doctor save my soul
Doctor soul is in
Ooh
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faves And Yuks
and some say
oh that’s my favourite ever poem
my aunt my uncle my teacher read it
to me when I was twelve
and the more I read it
the more true it is and now
I’m older I can say it off by heart
as if the poem knows my heart
and some say
that poem yuk I really really hate it
the more people said to me
that’s a great poem
the more I hated it
now if I see it
in an anthology
I skip the page quickly
I really really hate it
and I wonder if
the more people read a poem
do they take a bit of its power into themselves
so it no longer has quite that surprise it had
or the more people read that poem
the more they add to it
so it has the power
to surprise more people
or do poems
like a rest from time to time
like that old toy in
your grandparents’ attic
which so surprised you
that Jack-in-a-box
with a face like
Pushkin
or Langston Hughes
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is There Time For A Poem?
Is there time for a poem
In a world of other sounds?
Is there time for a poem
When songs cannot be heard?
Is there time for a poem
In a time when fear is everywhere?
Is there time for a poem
When no one knows the way to help?
Is there time for a poem
In the darkest time, in the time of no way out?
Is there time for a poem
Any time a person alone
Cannot dare to breathe their own Name
Against the silence of the night?
2.
Is there time for a poem now
When all is so light and bright
There is nothing not even evil to fear
And all the world is singing and saying words of beauty?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sublime
The leopard left his sleep behind,
Arose and walked around
And with that walk his waking mind
Was glad at what he found...
The sun was shining in the sky,
A wondrous breeze drew near
And yet not once did he ask why
Such blessings should appear...
And yet this world is so sublime,
In every single part
And blessed are they that spend their time
In painting perfect art...
Think of all creatures... great and small...
That artists sit and paint,
Yet Stephen Gayford, he stands tall,
To some, he is a saint...
He captures insights when on tour,
He gets each detail done
And then he thrills us to the core
And shares his sense of fun...
From meerkats to the giant cats,
Fantastic dolphins, too!
He paints them like aristocrats...
Sublime... each time... for you...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Sublime'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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18 Definitions Of A Short Poem
1) A short poem
Saves time,
2) A short poem
Saves time
For its reader, also.
3) A short poem is over
Before its read.
4) A short poem
Can be swiftly reread.
5) A short poem
Is a lightning flash.
6) A short poem
Is one metaphor only.
7) A short poem
Is less than nine words.
8) A short poem
Opens ones eyes
In the morning.
9) A short poem
May be a short prayer.
10) A short poem
May be a poem of a single word.
11) Poem.
12) A short poem
A small play on words.
13) A short poem
May be a single sentence.
14) A short poem is shorter
Than the definition of it.
15) It breaks up the icy sea within.
16) A chill down the spine.
17) There is no end
To making definitions of the short poem.
18) A short poem in Hebrew
Is shorter than than the same poem in English.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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